


Lost and Found

by Winterturtle



Series: Home At Last [1]
Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Gen, Hospitals, Injury, M/M, Post-Canon, Recovery, Reunions, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24183490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterturtle/pseuds/Winterturtle
Summary: After delivering the orders, Schofield is sent to the hospital to recover from his injuries. Uncertain of Blake's fate, he keeps thinking about the past day, hoping he survived. Once the lorry transporting him and a few others stops to pick some injured from an aid post, a reunion happens. And it won't be the only one.
Relationships: Tom Blake & William Schofield, Tom Blake/William Schofield
Series: Home At Last [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781869
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This could be read as a prequel to Myrtle's Having Puppies (after two minor changes that don't affect the plot) or a standalone work.

April 8th

It was difficult to imagine that only two days ago they were tasked with delivering the order to stop the attack that could save the lives of sixteen hundred men. He could swear it was longer, with everything that was going on, but then again, he hit his head pretty hard. After stopping the attack and informing the older Blake about his younger brother’s uncertain condition, the exhaustion settled in and he passed out, the trunk of the lone tree supporting him.

When he woke up, he was in a medical tent, the older Blake by his side. Apparently, Joe went to check on him later and ask him whose men he left his brother with, but since he was completely unresponsive, Joe had the doctor to tend to his wounds.

“Thought we lost you there for a second, with how still you were,” Joe told him, trying to lighten the mood. He really was like Tom, just older. “Tomorrow morning they’ll send you to the hospital to make sure your hand and head will be alright.” Silence spread around them before Joe spoke again, voice filled with emotion. “You must’ve come through hell and back to get here. Both of you… Say, whose men did you leave my brother with? I’ll try to find out if he- “his throat closed, unable to finish his sentence.

“They were captain Smith’s men. They told me they would get him to an aid post as soon as possible.” I just hope they were fast enough went unsaid. Schofield really hoped the stab wound wasn’t fatal. But Blake was so pale and there was so much blood and he doesn’t know what he would do if he lost the only person close to him.

“Alright, I doubt the communication guys will be any help today, since it’s already pretty late, but first thing tomorrow morning I’ll go there and find out. I’ll send a word to you. Now get some more rest, you must be still tired,” Joe said as he pushed himself up. Giving Schofield one last nod, he left the tent.

Schofield watched as Joe’s silhouette slowly disappeared into the setting sun. Despite the wounded men all around him – just because he was too slow, only if he was faster – he felt alone. Blake’s presence had been – _has been,_ don’t give up yet Will, he reminded himself – constant in the never ending current of war. Others came and went, but those blue eyes were still there. With hope that he will see those blue eyes again, Schofield fell asleep.

Schofield woke up to someone shaking his shoulder. “Hey mate, were here to get you to the hospital. We’re going to put you on a stretcher, alright?” There were two soldiers, one hovering above Schofield’s head, the other one at his feet. “On three. One, two, three,” the soldier counted down and both of them lifted him and put him on the stretcher on the ground.

Lifting the stretcher, they headed to where Schofield assumed lorries were. He saw one more man get carried outside along with him and passing another pair of stretch bearers headed back to the tent. The sun was barely up and he felt the gentle blow of crisp morning breeze. The camp was slowly filling with soldiers about to start their day.

Schofield doesn’t know what prompted him, but he turned his head to the side. Among the slowly increasing sea of soldiers, he noticed Joe watching him. When Joe was sure Schofield had noticed him too, he raised his hand in greeting. Schofield tried to raise his left hand to return the gesture since his left side was facing Joe, but his hand felt strange. He knew the doctor cleaned the wound on his hand since there were clean bandages. The infection must have settled in anyway and honestly, he wasn’t even surprised. He settled for his right hand.

Joe nodded in acknowledgement and resumed walking. Will assumed he went to the communications to find out if Tom is alive. From what he could see, Joe didn’t get much sleep last night. He must’ve been worried sick about his brother. Hell, Will would have spent the whole night worrying if he wasn’t still so tired and his head didn’t hurt. The uncertainty is the worst.

They finally reached the lorries. One lorry was already leaving. They loaded the other man in another one, securing the stretcher in place. One of the stretcher bearers jumped in while the other one slapped the cabin twice, telling the driver: “You can go.” The lorry rumbled to life and slowly pulled sped away.

“Alright, up you go,” they lifted him up and secured him too. The one talking to him stayed inside while the other one wished the driver good trip. The lorry roared to life as well and moved with a jerk. Schofield noticed there was still free space. As if the stretcher bearer sensed his unvoiced question, he began speaking. “We will be stopping by some aid post to pick some other folks. Just a small detour, probably will take us extra half an hour.”

Will nodded, scanning the faces of two other wounded men. One of them looked familiar for some reason, but he couldn’t place where he saw him. The traitorous thoughts from yesterday returned, whispering that it was his fault they’re hurt, that none of that would’ve happened if he was faster. He shoved them away, knowing that people die all the time in war. Just like Mackenzie said, next week they could get an order to attack and the result would be the same for them, or worse.

“You’re not from here, are you? I’ve never seen your face around before,” the stretch bearer initiated another conversation. He seemed genuinely curious to know more about Schofield. Or it was the fact that he was the only one conscious.

“No, I’m from the 8th. We were sent here to deliver the order to stop yesterday’s attack. It was a trap and the telephone lines were cut.” It was really strange to talk about it, like it was lifetime ago, yet it was only a few days.

“Ah, so that was your doing. Thanks, we would definitely have more work if the attack proceeded… or, well, we would be all dead. But judging from your state, you had a pretty rough journey. You said ‘we’. Where are the others?”

Will was kind of surprised how lightheartedly he said that. But then again, this man was a stretcher bearer. He was probably used to people dying right in front of him while he tried to carry them to safety, while Will just shot and shot, mind numb. Captain Smith’s words rang clear in his mind. If something happens to him, it’s best not to dwell on it. “There was just one. I don’t even know if he’s alive.”

The stretcher bearer’s face dropped. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t know that. I just assumed he was somewhere nearby, resting.”

“It’s alright,” Will lied smoothly and let the silence fill the truck. The conversation left him strangely tired. He blamed the concussion and let his eyes slide shut, the ride lulling him to sleep.

Will was still half asleep when he heard shuffling movements. He realized the lorry wasn’t moving. They must have stopped at that aid post. He couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment, he was just so tired. Turning his face to face the wall of the lorry, he tried to block the sounds and fall back asleep. For at least a few more minutes.

“Ow.”

Wait, he knew that voice. But no, that couldn’t be… The concussion must be playing tricks on him. “That was the last one, you can go,” he heard someone call from the outside. The lorry roared back to life and started to move again.

“Sorry, the ride won’t be that smooth from here on,” the stretcher bearer said. “But once you’ll get to the hospital, they’ll fix you right up!” Will was starting to get curious who the man was talking to.

“I hope so. Hurts like hell.”

Now Schofield definitely needed to know if his mind was playing awful tricks on him or if it was real. There could be someone that had similar enough voice, but what were the odds. Slowly, he turned his head to the voices. What he saw left him breathless. He knew those brown curls. There was no mistaking it. This was real.

The movement caught the young man’s – barely a man – attention. Those familiar blue eyes widened in shock and surprise. “Scho?” he asked quietly. “Scho,” he said louder, “is – is that really you?” There was hope in his voice. Hope that it was real.

“Blake,” he said, relief filling his voice. “Yes, it’s really me. I’m here.” Tears threatened to fill his eyes. Not sure if they would be the tears of relief of happiness, he fought them back. “You’re alive,” he said as if to reassure himself with that statement.

“Yes, I am.” He could see that Blake was fighting back tears too. it was so surreal for both of them. The stress, fear and uncertainty from the past days washed off them in one wave. Their happy moment was interrupted when the truck hit a hole on an uneven road, jostling everyone inside. Several groans and silent or quickly cut off screams filled the whole lorry. “Sorry,” they heard the driver apologize.

Schofield noticed that Blake was trying to breathe through the pain. His eyes were tightly shut and he gripped the sides of his stretcher as if his life depended on it. Schofield took a good look at his face. His expression was clear indicator that he was in a lot of pain. His skin was still pale, but not deathly pale like back at the farmhouse. That was a relief.

Blake’s breathing eventually returned to normal. He let out one final exhale, eyes closing with relief. Just when Schofield thought that Blake fell asleep, his eyes shot open. “Wait, Scho. The mission! Did you-? The orders… Joe…” He was starting to panic.

“Blake. Blake!” Schofield raised his voice to get Blake’s attention, “Everything’s alright. I finished the mission, delivered the orders and the attack was called off. Your brother is alright as well. Worried about you, but he wasn’t hurt.”

All of the tension left Blake’s body. “Good. Good,” he exhaled. “Hold on a moment, why are you here then? What happened to you?” he asked, as if only now registering the bandages around Schofield’s head.

The stretcher bearer saw this as a good opportunity to chime in again. “Wait, this is the lad you were send with?” he asked as he looked between the two.

“Yes.”

“Ah, that’s nice reunion then,” the stretcher bearer’s face lit up with happiness. “It all ended well.”

But Blake didn’t let the other man interrupt him for long. “Scho, what the hell did you do? I know about that hand of yours, with that barbed wire and the corpse. But what happened after I passed out? Why do you have bandages around your head?” he asked.

Schofield didn’t really want to talk about it now, with a crowd of awake men around that listened to their every word and in fear that Blake would just get more distressed. “I’ll tell you later, I promise.” He hoped that later won’t come for a really long time. Which wasn’t granted to him at all.

“I might not give you all of the information you would like,” one of the men that left the camp with Schofield spoke, “but he ran atop of active trench. We were getting over the top already, shells falling everywhere and this mad man just kept running. And he was soaking wet for some reason,” the man finished.

Schofield now recognized the man speaking. He was the second one he collided with while he ran. Well, there went his chance of avoiding this conversation. “Scho!” Blake raised his voice, horrified. “Are you mad? You could have been killed!”

For some reason, the accusation in Blake’s last sentence hurt. “There was no time,” he defended himself. “The attack was about to start, and I wouldn’t have made it sooner if I’d made my way through the trench. It was the only option.”

“But… that doesn’t make any sense. There was plenty of time to get there, we would have gotten there by dark. You tell me what the hell happened. Now!” Blake said, leaving no room for argument. And even if Schofield wanted to avoid it, every single head in the back of the truck was now watching him, curious about his journey. He had no choice but to comply.

“After you… you know, passed out, a convoy was passing through. They had to move the tree from the road and some men found us. There was captain Smith, he offered help, said that they were passing through Ecoust and would get you to an aid post. But when we got there the bridge was down and the next one was six miles away, so I got out.” Schofield took a pause, knowing that everything he’s about to say from now on will be unpleasant.

“There was a sniper. He started to shoot at me while I was climbing the railing to get to the other side. I returned the fire and when he stopped shooting, I went to check to make sure he was dead. In the house I slowly opened the door. He was still alive and we both shot at the same time. The bullet hit my helmet and I fell down the stairs. That’s how I got these,” he said, pointing to his head.

“It was night when I woke up, my head in a pool of blood. The sniper was dead, but it turned out that there were more of them. They were firing magnesium flares but noticed me only when I was passing the burning church. They fired at me, I ran and hid in a basement. There was a girl with a baby. She – she asked where are the others, begged me to stay, but the bells signaled morning and I knew I didn’t have much time.”

Schofield noticed that everyone listened with held breath, not daring to interrupt him. “They spotted me again, this time more of them. I knew I couldn’t outrun them, but there was a bridge with river bellow so I jumped, then fell down the waterfall.” He decided they didn’t need to know that he almost gave up, or how the cherry petals reminded him why he had to keep going.

“I got out thanks to a fallen tree, but there were other bodies – soldiers, civilians… even children,” his voice cracked a bit. “Eventually, I heard singing, so I followed the voice and found the Devons, but they were the second wave and about to enter the trench. I tried to get through. You know the rest.” He felt as he got even more tired, noticing that sweat started to slowly appear on his skin.

“Scho…” Blake said, voice heavily laced with emotion. “Oh Scho. I’m so sorry.” Schofield gave him small tired smile, letting him know it was alright. It took barely a few seconds before others joined in.

“Wow.”

“Poor sod.”

“You’ve really had a rough day, huh?”

“I should probably tell the higherups about those Germans in Ecoust. It was supposed to be abandoned, and with how close it is we can’t risk anything,” the stretcher bearer said. Schofield saw as he gave him a look full of sympathy and pity. He could only nod.

The rumbling of the lorry stopped, accompanied with “we’re here”. The stretch bearer got up, off to find some people to help him. he returned with three other soldiers and got to work. once it was only Blake and Schofield in the lorry, Blake spoke up again.

“I really am sorry. If I wouldn’t be stupid and got stabbed, none of that would have happened.” Schofield heard the deep regret in his voice.

“Don’t apologize. And besides, you don’t know that. Even if you were right, something else might have gotten wrong. So, no more apologizing. The important thing is that all ended well. No arguments,” he added quickly when he noticed Tom opening his mouth. Blake let out an exhale, then agreed. “Alright.”

The stretcher bearer returned. “Alright mates, you are the last ones.” He instructed others to be extra careful with Blake while he and another man carried Schofield. The sun blinded him for a moment, but then taking in their surroundings. The hospital was a repurposed school, which was still intact and big enough to house the larger amount of soldiers.

“Put them in the room at the end of the hallway over there,” he heard someone say. Probably a nurse. They entered a small room with four beds, two empty, but two obviously occupied, their residents missing. Once placed on the beds, the three men left the room, leaving only the stretcher bearer from second Devons.

“Well lads, I wish you swift recovery. I’ll let the higherups know about Ecoust once I’m back. Bye.” He turned around and started to walk away.

“Wait!” Schofield called. The man stopped, turning to face him. “Once you’re there, could you please find lieutenant Blake and tell him that his brother is alive?” The man seemed to make a connection now, looking at the other Blake.

“So that’s why your face looked so familiar. Don’t worry, I’ll let him know.”

“Thank you,” both Schofield and Blake said in union. The man just nodded with a smile and left. “So, what now?” Blake asked.

“I guess we wait for the doctor to come see us,” Schofield replied.

“I’m curious about our roommates. I hope they don’t snore.” Schofield snorted. It was nice to have that cheerful energy by his side again. As if on cue, they heard the sound of crutches approach. “Well, I guess your question will be answered soon.” The door opened, revealing two men, each leaning on crutches. The one that opened the door looked at them.

“Tom?”


	2. Chapter 2

Anthony was a man on a mission. Well, not a mission in a right sense right now, but still a mission. After his first battle, the first one of many horrors yet to come, he made it his mission to carry to safety and save as many people as he could. Of course, he wasn’t always successful – too many had died before he managed to get them to safety.

He hated to see people suffer, be it physical or mental pain. And that man - the lieutenant’s brother called him Scho, must be a nickname – had a look of suffering man. He’s seen that look too many times before. The look he had learned to associate with mourning someone close to you, or the uncertainty of someone’s fate mixed with tiredness and worry. It was always one of those two.

If this Scho wouldn’t have arrived when he did, a lot of people would wear the first variation on their faces.

Still, it was insane to think what he’d gone through to save their lives. He looked out of the window, watching the trees nearby and just thinking. It was scary how fragile, yet resilient human body actually is. He pondered about that thought until the lorry stopped. “Home sweet home,” he said to the driver as he opened the door.

Stretching his limbs looked around, determined look on his face. Well, time to bring lieutenant Blake some good news and to the higherups some… he guesses not so great news. He remembered the lieutenant headed to where the communication is stationed, so that would be pretty good starting point.

Anthony briefly scanned the face of every soldier that passed him, just in case the lieutenant was one of them. He noticed more officers as he neared the communication, which he guessed made sense. He looked around the place, but the lieutenant was nowhere to be found. It was still a few hours until noon, so he wouldn’t be having lunch now. The next place where he could logically be is with his men, so Anthony decided to look for him there next.

Just as he turned around, he noticed the man in question leave one of the tents, his posture tense. Anthony jogged to catch up with him, calling his name to get his attention. “Sir! Lieutenant Blake!” Blake turned around and a few seconds later Anthony caught up, saluting. “Sir, I have a message for you.”

“At ease,” he waved of his salute. Up close, Anthony could see just how tired he looked – black bags under his eyes, tense posture, but what stood out the most was the look in his eyes. Second variation of _the look._ So he probably didn’t know yet. “What message?”

“When we were picking the injured from the aid post, the man that stopped yesterday’s attack identified identified one of the wounded as the one that was apparently sent with him to deliver the message. Your brother is alive. They wanted me to tell you.” Anthony watched as all of the tension got replaced by relief.

“Thank you,” the lieutenant breathed out, “thank you so much for letting me know. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. Is he alright?” he asked.

“He’s pale because of the blood loss, but otherwise he seemed alright. He was quite chatty for the state he was in,” he added with small grin. That caused a laugh to escape from the older Blake. “Yeah, that’s him.” He chuckled a bit more and thanked Anthony again for letting him know.

Just as Blake was about to leave, Anthony figured he could tell him about the Germans in Ecoust too and he could relay the information to the command. “Sir, if I might one more thing…” Blake turned around, listening. “The man also said something else. Turns out there are some Germans in Ecoust.”

Joe’s eyes widened a bit. He opened his mouth to say something when a new voice interrupted him. “Could you repeat that soldier? Something about Ecoust?” Anthony turned around, immediately saluting the newcomer. “Colonel Mackenzie, sir!”

Mackenzie waved him off. “Please repeat what you just said to the lieutenant.” Well, it looks like he was about to save the lieutenant relaying the message since the colonel was here.”

“While we were transporting the wounded along with the man that stopped yesterday’s attack, he talked about his journey. Turns out there are some Germans in Ecoust and at least two civilians are trapped there – a girl with a baby.”

Mackenzie seemed to think about the information he just received. “They could be deserters or those bastards are planning something. Anyway, we can’t risk anything. Lieutenant Blake, take your men and take care of the issue. You are to leave at two in the afternoon. Once you’re done, take the wounded to the hospital since it’s closer.”

Anthony was good at reading people. He noticed the subtle look he gave Blake with that last sentence. So the man had the heart after all, even if he didn’t show it. But does that mean he was listening in on their conversation from somewhere? From the corner of his eyes he noticed a tent that could be within the hearing range if the colonel stood at the entrance. “Yes sir,” Blake replied.

Mackenzie gave him a nod before walking away. Both men watched him for a moment before Joe broke the silence. “I better go let my men know.” They exchanged their goodbyes and Anthony watched him leave, the relaxed posture apparent even despite his new mission. His own little mission was done.

Lauri wondered about the fate of the English soldier that came tumbling into the basement. After he left, she heard the shots and then small pieces of conversation she could understand as the Germans passed by. Something about current and waterfall and no way to make it. She hoped that despite that, the man survived.

Despite being glad that he gave her milk for the baby, she started to worry that it only prolonged the unavoidable. The milk was running out.

The sound of gunshot ripped her from her thoughts. The feeling of the unknown was the worst. Were they just practicing, did someone come, or did they found someone else hiding in the ruins of the town? That last one terrified her the most. After what felt like eternity, but it was only a few minutes, the gunshot stopped.

She heard the door to the basement squeak and two pair of footsteps were heard. She held the child close as a bayonet appeared from around the corner quickly followed by a man, second one not far behind. “Please don’t,” she pleaded with small voice, shaking like a leaf.

The man quickly lowered his gun. “We’re not here to hurt you. We’re English,” the man replied in perfect French. The English – they came. So the man from before must have made it. Her shoulders sagged with relief.

“Come on, we’ll get you out of here,” he made a gesture to follow him. Once outside, she noticed the man had blue eyes and some brown curls were poking from under his helmet. They made their way to the small square – or what was left of it. She saw eight German soldiers kneeling, facing one of the remaining walls, their hands behind their heads. One in particular stood out to her – he was young with nasty bruise on his neck. He appeared to have difficulty breathing.

There were soldiers all around, but her breath caught in her throat when she saw two people walking with two soldiers from opposite direction. They stop too. They stare at each other for a moment, not believing their eyes, before they run to each other.

“Mama! Papa!”

“Lauri!”

They were alive. Lauri couldn’t believe it. They were really alive. The reunited family embraced and cried, kissing and holding each other as if one of them would disappear if they let go. Through happy tears, they whispered their reassurances that they are alright.

The scene of reunited family pulled fond smiles on the face of every soldier present (and a few fallen tears that nobody commented on). Joe was no different. He longed to hug his mother and brother like this. The thought that he could lose his little brother made his heart ache. Reminding himself that Tom was alive and relatively well combined with arrival of last of his men with two more civilians, he decided to finish it here.

“Load the wounded and civilians to one lorry,” he started giving orders. He looked at his second in command. They exchanged the look and the man and a few others started to tie the Germans’ hands behind their backs and leading them to another lorry to transport them to prisoner camp. He could leave that to his men, they were competent. “The rest that is uninjured, return to the camp.”

Once everyone was settled in, he sat next to the driver of the lorry filled with wounded and civilians. “And we are going to the hospital,” Joe said as the engine of the lorry rumbled to life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short middle chapter because I need to de-stress. Also, headcanon that both Blakes speak French (they just seem like it, ok?). Anyway, thank you all for the support this story got so far!


	3. Chapter 3

The whole room was silent. Everybody froze except Will, who glanced between the two men and Tom. He watched as Tom’s face lit up with recognition. “Ed? Charlie? Oh my God, what are you guys doing here?” he asked, smiling. Will noticed that he wasn’t as cheerful as usual when something good happened, his voice not his usual loud volume. Tom was obviously tired – be it from the blood loss or the emotional taxing story Will told earlier – but he tried his best.

“We should be asking you the same thing!” the second man spoke as they both made their way to their beds to sit down. “Man, it’s good to see you, although it would be nicer under different circumstances.”

“Yeah,” Tom’s eyes slid to where Will was lying between his bed and the wall. “Oh, Scho. These guys are Edward-” he pointed to the one on the bed next to him –“and Charles Green,“ he pointed at the other one near the other wall. “We grew up in the same village. We used to play together all the time.”

So they were Tom’s childhood friends. “William Schofield,” he introduced himself. Will took in the appearances of the two men. They both had light brown hair, brown eyes, wounded legs and were overall very similar. Will probably wouldn’t know how to tell them apart if it wasn’t for the bandage covering Charlie’s right eye.

“But really, how are you doing? Are you alright?” Tom asked and Will couldn’t stop the thought that despite being seriously wounded and almost dying, Tom still cared about well-being of others.

“Yeah, we are now,” Edward replied. “I got here first,” he lifted his leg on the bed. Tom’s eyes saddened when he noticed there was nothing below the knee. Edward caught his gaze and started speaking before Tom could interrupt him. “A grenade landed a bit too close for my liking,” he grinned, attempting to lighten the mood. “Really, it’s alright. I’ve gotten over it already. I’m just thankful that I’m alive.”

Tom looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it. Then Charles picked up from where his brother stopped. “Shrapnel,” he pointed to his eye. “And as if it wasn’t enough, a bullet hit my leg while I was trying to get to safety. It went through, but it still cracked the bone pretty badly.”

“But good news!” Edward interrupted, “they’re sending us home tomorrow. Well, not exactly _home-_ home, but we’re going back to England. We’ll still be stuck in some hospital for a little while.”

“Good for you,” Tom said, “I bet the food will be better there than here.” The brothers let out laughs while Schofield snorted in amusement and smiled. Tom tried not to laugh too much, since he didn’t want to aggravate his injury more. He could feel the morphine was starting to wear off.

“You never change!” Charles said with a smile on his face as they calmed down. “But now enough about us. How did you two get here? You’re from the same company I assume.”

Schofield didn’t think he could get even more tired, but here he is. He doesn’t think that he would be able to tell that story again in this short span of time. Once was already too many today. That’s why he was grateful that Blake took it upon himself to re-tell the story.

“We were sent to deliver the orders to call off the attack of the second Devons. Sixteen hundred men, including Joe, were about to walk into a trap. As you can see, the journey wasn’t smooth,” he smiled uncomfortably.

“We can see that,” Ed said, “but how did you get like this?” Will saw that both brothers were curious and that Tom was slowly running out of energy. Tom also wanted to wrap this up as quickly as possible. He’s been awake for only a few hours since the farmhouse, but he felt that little energy he had left slowly disappearing. “Well-“

“You better stay in that bed or I swear I’ll tie you to it!”

The feminine voice was in the hallway outside, sounding irritated. The voice was familiar. Tom knew that voice from somewhere. He willed his tiredness away, focusing to place the voice. The footsteps got closer to their room. Suddenly his face lit up with recognition. “Wait, is that?”

The door opened and a nurse stepped in, looking down on some papers. She had the same light brown hair as the brothers. She looked up, her hazel eyes widening wen they landed on Tom. “Oh… Tom…” Her voice was quiet with shock.

“Hi Emily,” Tom greeted her with a little awkward laugh. “Uh… How are you?”

Tom’s speaking appeared to snap her out of the shock. “How am I?” she asked in disbelief. “You’re seriously asking me how I am when you are lying on a hospital bed?” The irritation was slowly starting to seep back to her voice. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Why are YOU here?”

Tom was taken aback a bit. Will just looked at the nurse uncertainly. “Sorry. Sorry, I just… Never mind,” Emily took a deep breath, then smiled. Tom relaxed at the sight of the kind smile. “I’m just here to leave the papers here for the doctor. He’ll be with you shortly.” Her eyes slid to Will, then to the papers.

“You are… Schofield, right? I’m nurse Emily Green. I’ll be taking care of you.” She put the papers down and turned back to the four men, but mostly zeroing on Tom. “Alright, start speaking. How did you get here?”

“Well, sister dearest, you’re here just on time then. Tom was about to tell us before you interrupted us so rudely,” Edward said with a grin on his face. Emily looked him dead in the eye. “I’ll hit you.” She turned her attention back to Tom, nodding at him to continue.

“Right. As I was saying, Scho and I were sent to deliver the orders to stop the attack. Scho here cut his hand on a barbed wire and then accidentally put it through rotting German, which _might be_ my fault. Then he got shot at and got a concussion when he was alone.”

“And why was he alone when you were sent together?” Emily raised her eyebrow.

“I- I got stabbed,” was all Tom said. Will noticed how Emily clenched her fists. “He had to keep going. Neither of us knew if I would make it, but here I am,” To gave her small reassuring smile.

“You got lucky,” she exhaled, closing her eyes.

“Yes. And all I did was trying to help.” Will had a feeling Tom shouldn’t continue. But of course, Tom never knew when to shut up. “Too bad that Hun pilot didn’t get the message.” Will’s sense of foreboding fulfilled. The small room was filled with tension in an instant. You could hear the pin drop as nobody didn’t dare to make any noise. Before, Schofield felt like he was intruding on a friendly reunion, but now he would rather be on a battlefield.

“You tried to help enemy pilot?” she forced through her teeth. Everything about her posture and tone screamed anger and danger. Unfortunately, Tom was oblivious and simply replied with yes, as if it was the most normal thing.

“Are you insane?!” the sudden rise in volume caused everyone to flinch. Tom was taken aback, blinking in shock. “You tried to- oh God. Do you ever realize what you did?” The volume didn’t go down. Instead, pacing and wild gestures were added. “You were stabbed! STABBED! You could have died! Are you even aware of that? Let me tell you one thing, since you probably still didn’t figure it out. Kindness gets you killed on the battlefield! Just like him!” with that, Emily turned on her heel and left the room. Everything was quiet for a while.

“What did I do wrong?” Tom asked silently, still shocked. “I know it was probably stupid, but…”

“Tom,” Edward interrupted him. When he looked over at him, Tom noticed the odd look Ed had on his face. “The reason why she blew up like this…” Edward was unable to finish, opting to look down instead.

“Archie,” Charles spoke, ”Tom, Archie is dead.” Tom felt all the air leave his lungs. He knew they weren’t lying about this. It was hard to believe. It felt different to learn of the death of someone you knew since childhood and the death of a man you’ve been with for a few weeks. “How?”

Charlie raised his head to look at Tom. “It was after one battle. We were just finishing, rounding the captured Germans. Archie noticed there was one on the ground, alive, but couldn’t get up. He tried to help the Hun up. The bastard pulled out a knife and stabbed him. He bled out within minutes.” Charlie’s voice was quiet and filled with sadness all the time.

Schofield knew that look. He could bet he looked the same when Blake lost consciousness. Charlie watched his friend bleed out, unable to do anything. And as much as it pained him and felt bad for the loss of their friend, he hoped that Tom would now realize the whole impact of what happened.

After all, Emily was right. Kindness gets you killed out here. He learned his lesson at the Somme.

“But I just tried to help,” Blake whispered, tears welling in his eyes.

“I know Blake. I know,” Schofield returned the whisper. It was the only thing he could offer as a comfort.

After reassuring words of “she’s been pulling double shift because other nurse was unwell and you know how she is when she’s exhausted, give her some time to calm down and it will be alright” from the brothers, the doctor’s visit, a few biscuits since they didn’t have breakfast and a dose of morphine, Tom fell asleep, Will soon following into dreamless, but peaceful sleep.

Will woke up first. He felt the heat radiating from his hand, doctor’s words of confirmation that it got infected replaying in his head. He hoped he could fight it off, since he didn’t want to lose his hand, even if that would get to go home, but he couldn’t leave Tom. Not yet. Moving his head to the side, he noticed that the other two beds were empty again. Tom was still asleep, but from the crease of his eyebrows it wouldn’t be for long.

He turned his attention to the window. From what he could make out of the sky, it could be around three or four in the afternoon. They’ve slept through lunch – he didn’t mind, as he wasn’t really that hungry. Will let his mind go blank. Not thinking about anything, just looking out of the window. There was a cherry tree in the distance, a bird flying by occasionally. This is the most peace he felt in a long time.

“They were supposed to get married, you know? Archie and Emily.” Will’s head snapped to the side, regretting the action when a wave of nausea hit him. He must have spaced out for quite some time. Tom was now awake. His eyes left the ceiling and found their way to Will. “All six of us basically grew up together. They liked each other since we were children. We used to play every day.” Tom’s voice was silent.

“It’s so unfair,” he sighed, fighting back tears. Will felt terrible. Blake’s innocence took a hard blow. The weight of everything that happened dawned upon him. It wasn’t a pretty sight. First time Tom looked like this was after their first battle. That brightness was tainted by the horrors of war. And now he learned the second hardest lesson – you can’t count that everyone will stay a decent person out here.

The sight pained his heart, but he will be damned if he won’t try to help Tom through this. “It’s not your fault, you know?” Tom stayed quiet, looking conflicted. Will took it as a sign to continue. “None of this is your fault. The only ones to blame for all of this are those who started it. Old men sending young men to die.” Will knew if someone heard him, he would face prison or firing squad. But Tom wouldn’t tell. He knew he wouldn’t.

“If anything, it’s quite admirable that there are still people like you. People that try to help others that aren’t doctors. Even though recklessly and not thinking things through,” Will said with a small smile. That seemed to do the trick as Tom smiled back at him. “It doesn’t do to dwell on it. The important thing is that you lived and learned from that mistake.”

“Hm, I guess you’re right. Thanks, Will.” And there was that light in Tom’s eyes that Will loved. He reached his good hand for Tom, leaving it hanging over the space between their beds. Tom did the same. Despite their fingers only brushing, it brought them both comfort. And for a while, every pain, every horror, the whole war disappeared and it was only two of them.

The magic of the moment was broken when they heard heavy footsteps approaching. Both of them withdrew their hands. The door opened, Tom’s heart skipped a beat, and the figure in the door visibly relaxed. “Joe!”

“Hey Tom. Schofield,” he greeted them. Joe made his way to Tom’s bed, crouching and hugging him, mindful of his brother’s injuries. “You’re alive. Thank God, you’re alive.” Joe sounded like he was about to cry. Tom couldn’t see his expression as Joe’s head was pressing into his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m alive. I’m alright,” Tom patted Joe’s back in an attempt to comfort him. Joe got up to get a chair and sat it between the occupied beds, although he was closer to Tom’s bed.

“I should be scolding you for what you did, but I can’t bring myself to do that right now. I know you already got some good scolding from Emily. And before you ask how I know, I met the guys downstairs.” Tom noticed that Joe was blinking away the tears, but his voice didn’t waver. He was trying to stay composed. Joe tried to lighten the mood a bit. “Turns out that now was the best time for them to settle the old conflict about who’s the best pirate.” It worked, as he received amused huffs.

Once the tears were gone, he turned to Will. “Schofield, how are you holding up? How are your injuries?” Will’s assumptions about Joe were confirmed. He saw how Joe cared about his men. Now he knew that Joe was genuinely caring about him, not just because he was his last possible link to finding Tom.

“The doctor confirmed my hand got infected, but my head will be alright, sir.”

“Please, call me Joseph or Joe when we aren’t on duty.” Will could only nod.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Blake asked. “I can’t imagine that you were allowed to leave just to check on us.” Schofield had his suspicion, but from his brief interaction with the command of second Devons, that wouldn’t make sense. He didn’t jump to conclusions, choosing to listen to Joe’s explanation instead.

“Basically, that stretcher bearer that went here with you today came to find me to tell me you’re alive,” he said as he turned to Schofield. “It was you that told him about those Germans in Ecout and the girl with a baby, right?” Will nodded. “Well, colonel Mackenzie overheard, or more like… spied on our conversation, and sent me with my men to deal with them. We did a quick work with them and got the civilians that were left there to safety. He also gave the order to bring any injured here.”

“Wait,” Tom said, trying to wrap his head around what Joe just said. “He actually let you come here? Aren’t you supposed to deal with… I don’t know… the reports or something?”

“I’ll give my report when I come back. And yes, contrary to popular belief, colonel is efficient, but he’s not heartless. He cares about his men. That’s why I think he was spying on our conversation.” Now this was something Will wanted to disagree with before he remembered that the colonel did call off the attack in the end. He kind of understood his situation, but he still disliked him a bit for how stubbornly he acted.

“Maybe he let you go because he saw how you look like. Seriously, have you seen yourself in the mirror today? You look like death warmed over,” Tom teased.

Joe hit him playfully in the shoulder. “You are a little shit, you know that?” They all started laughing, the atmosphere in the room pleasant. They kept talking and lost track of time until the door opened again.

“Great. Another Blake. Just what I needed. As if one wasn’t more than enough,” Emily said with straight face, but amusement and teasing in her voice.

“Emily, hello,” Joe greeted.

“Hey Joe.”

“Wait, what did you mean by that?” Tom asked Emily with mock confusion.

“You heard me. Now hush, the adults are speaking.”

“I’m just a year younger than you!” Emily ignored Tom’s offended outcry as she faced Joe again.

“It’s good to see you, Joe. And in one piece to that,” she laughed a little. “But as much as I would love to catch up, we will be serving the dinner in half an hour and you have to take your men and go. Well, those that can go back.”

“Wait, what time is it? And how many didn’t make it?” Joe asked, preparing himself for bad news.

Emily just smiled reassuringly. “It’s currently quarter past six and you’re lucky. Three of them were in critical condition, but they are stable now. We’ll keep other six here and the five left can go back,” her smile was warm. “Congratulation. You have executed a successful operation with no casualties.”

Joe visibly relaxed. “Thank you. For everything.” He got up and put the chair back. “I’ll leave these two in your care. I know you’re the best nurse.” Emily just rolled her eyes with a smirk. “Please, you’re flattering me too much. Come on, I’ll escort you out.”

Joe turned to the men on the beds for the last time. “I’ll try to visit sometimes again, alright? Don’t do anything stupid,” he addressed Tom. “Schofield, I’m counting on you to keep him out of trouble when Emily won’t be around.”

Tom groaned. “Joe, I don’t need a babysitter, I can take care of myself just fine,” he protested. Joe just gave him the typical older sibling doubt look. “Clearly,” he said with straight face before breaking into smiling again. “See you later.” With that, the two left.

The brothers returned a few minutes after that, then Emily came to bring them their dinner and fed whining Tom. With a promise to see them in the morning, she left to help with the dishes before she would go straight to bed after her shift ends. Time passed in a blur after that and before they knew it, it was night.

Despite everything being quiet, Tom couldn’t sleep. He opened his eyes and let his eyes adjust to the darkness, the moonlight streaming in through the window helping to illuminate parts of room. “Will?” Tom whispered. “Are you sleeping?”

“No,” came whispered reply. Tom turned his head to face him, and the sight that met him made his heart skip a beat. The pale moonlight landing on Will made him look like a dream. Tom admired the sight, and from what he could tell, Will admired the sight of Tom too. Tom decided to break the silence once again. “Thank you. For everything – saving my brother and for earlier.” Will just hummed in response.

Tom reached his hand for Will once again, Will returning the gesture with no hesitation. “What do we do now?” Tom asked.

“Now we will focus on our recovery and not thinking about anything else,” Will replied, locking Tom’s fingertips with his own. They fell quiet after that, enjoying the moment, before the moment was shattered with Edward’s mumbling.

“Hm, so stressful to climb these roofs.” Will stiffened with fear and Tom started to muffle his laugh. “Oh, I completely forgot. Scho, watch this,” he composed himself a bit and raised his voice a little. “What roofs?” They didn’t have to wait long for reply.

“These roofs. I’m on one right now,” Edward mumbled back and Tom had to bite his lip to stop laughing before his wound would start hurting. “Ed, please don’t climb any roofs.” Will finally realized what was happening.

“Alright,” came the last reply as Edward turned on the other side and stayed quiet. “Well, that was unexpected,” Will said.

“It wasn’t even the strangest thing he said. He once talked about some colorful baskets,” Tom said with amusement. Even Will smiled and then it was quiet once again. A moment later, Tom yawned. “We should try to get some sleep,” Will said, squeezing Tom’s fingertips.

“Yeah, we should. Goodnight, Will.”

“Goodnight, Tom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said there would be two main chapters, but the ideas kept flowing and it didn't feel right to stuff everything into this chapter, so the next one will be the last. Promise.


	4. Chapter 4

“Rise and shine sleeping beauties,” Emily’s voice carried across the small room, waking the four men up. “The breakfast is here. Today, we’re having porridge.” Will slowly opened his eyes. To say he felt bad would be an understatement. His left hand felt hot, his right heavy as he brought it up to his face to rub the sleep from his eyes and sweat from his forehead. Despite sleeping for the rest of the night he felt just as exhausted as when he completed the mission.

“Five more minutes,” Charlie let out mumbled protest.

Emily, however, was having none of it. “And then five more and five more, the porridge will get cold and then you’ll complain about how inedible it is. But fine, starve for all I care,” she said as she placed the bowls at his and Ed’s bedside table.

“You’re so mean!” Charlie whined, but threw his blanket off and sat up. Emily just rolled her eyes at her brother’s antics and made her way to Tom and Will with two other bowls. She placed them on the other bedside table and made her way to get a chair.

Will took a glance at the bowls and his eyes widened a bit. On the top of each porridge laid an innocent spoonful of raisins. Will has spent quite some time on the front and knew that the food in the hospitals was only slightly better than on the front. The only time they had something like this was when somebody brought some from their leave and decided to share with others.

A chair was placed next to Tom’s bed. Emily took one bowl and sat down. She placed her finger over her lips and looked between Tom and Will. “Don’t tell anyone,” she said with a wink. Emily’s gaze then stayed on Will for a little longer. She seemed to be assessing Will condition before she spoke up: “Do you need help?”

“No, thank you,” Will lied. He felt terrible and his hand started to hurt, but Tom needed Emily’s help more. He would manage. He placed the bowl on his lap and supported it with his left forearm. Just as he was reaching for the spoon, Emily turned back to Tom.

“Alright then. Open up, here comes the airplane,” she said in a tone one would speak to a baby. But instead of embarrassed groan of protest or laugh she was hoping for, Tom flinched and sucked in sharp breath. Will’s hand stilled mid-air, fingers clutching the spoon. For a moment everything stilled, and Will could see burning embers raining down on them.

Emily watched as Tom absentmindedly placed his hand over his wound. Then it dawned on her – the stab wound that almost cost Tom his life is somehow connected with a plane. Was the one stabbing Tom a pilot? She would have to ask Schofield later, once it wasn’t so fresh in their minds. “Sorry. I didn’t want to…” she quietly trailed off.

“No, it’s alright. You didn’t know,” Tom replied, equally quiet. Nobody dared to say a word after that. It was still a sore subject. Will dared to lift his eyes from his bowl to see others still focusing on theirs. Charlie held his bowl in his palm, letting out silent curses when his spoon missed the bowl or hit the edge. Loss of an eye always messes with one’s perception of depth.

“So, Emily, how did you sleep?” Edward asked, unable to stand the silence any longer and trying to cover his brother’s struggle. It worked and soon after that the normal conversation returned to the room. The mood improved further after Edward’s sleep talking was brought up.

Once the breakfast was over and the hygiene was taken care of, the doctor came to check up on everybody. Will’s fever wasn’t too bad yet, but he knew it would get worse. Tom’s wound was healing nicely, with no sign of infection. Everyone’s bandages were changed, and Emily brought two pairs of fresh clothes, helping her brothers to change.

“The lorries transporting you to the docks will be here any minute, you should head downstairs so they won’t have to wait for you two,” Emily said once they were done. “Go now, I have to go back to work.” Both Edward and Charles stepped closer and pulled Emily into a hug. “Say hi to mum and dad for me,” she said, returning the hug.

“We will, don’t worry,” Edward reassured.

“You be safe out here, alright?” Charles said.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Emily said, pulling away. The brothers turned to face Tom and Will. “We wish you a swift recovery. See you around,” Edward said and turned to the door.

“Guys, wait!” Tom called after them. Halfway out of the door, they turned their heads, listening. “Don’t tell my mum… that I’m here or what happened.”

They both grinned at him. “No worries. Our lips are sealed.” Tom’s shoulders fell with relief, whispering soft thank you. With one last nod to the occupants of the room, the brothers left, Emily soon following with their old folded clothes. Tom and Will were alone once again.

Tom, slowly returning to his usual self, couldn’t keep quiet for too long and started talking about life back at home when he was little. How they used to play by the river, how he and Joe used to climb the trees in their mother’s orchard, almost giving her an heart attack when Tom’s leg slipped, but luckily he quickly bent his other leg around the branch and was left hanging upside down.

Tom’s constant chatter brought a sense of normalcy to Will, allowing him to take his mind off of his aching hand. Before they knew it, it was time for lunch. It was a simple vegetable soup with a piece of… not exactly fresh bread, but definitely better than they got on the front. Will, struggling to eat just the soup, put his bread away. He was sure he wouldn’t be eating it, but maybe Tom would appreciate the extra bit of food. Will felt a little better.

And for a moment, Will thought he wouldn’t get that much worse. That was, of course, until the dinner arrived. He was halfway through his biscuits, listening to the conversation Tom and Emily were having, when a strong wave of nausea hit him. He put his plate down on a bedside table with more force than necessary, attracting the attention of the two. His hand was stuck in the air, deciding between covering his mouth and gripping the edge of the bed for support.

Emily immediately recognized what was about to happen as she quickly grabbed the bucket from below Will’s bed, shoving it at him just in time. Just as Will gripped the bucket, the biscuits and what was left of his lunch left his stomach. He felt one hand rubbing his back and the other placed over his forehead. Will didn’t hear the concerned calls of Tom, too busy emptying his stomach.

“Emily? Emily, what’s happening? He was fine just now,” Tom asked, his voice slightly rising with panic. Emily completely ignoring him, too focused on still vomiting man. She suddenly let go of Will and sprinted out of the room. “Emily!” Tom called after her. The vomiting wasn’t stopping and Tom grew more distressed. At loss of what to do, he started to slowly push himself up, intending to get to Will.

He managed to push himself up just a few centimeters when Emily came running back. “Stay down!” she barked at him as she made her way back to Will’s side. Tom, shocked by her sudden appearance, fell back down. A doctor and two other nurses came running in about ten seconds later. They all made their way to Will just as his vomiting was replaced with dry heaving. Their backs effectively hid him from Tom’s view. He felt as if he was about to lose his own dinner with worry. His mind couldn’t wrap around what was happening, the doctor’s talking becoming just background noise.

He was barely aware of Emily gently placing her hand on his shoulder, whispering that it would be alright before she quickly left again, followed by another nurse. He didn’t know how long she was gone, but she returned carrying something with other nurse. Her face came to view again, and he felt sharp prick in his arm. “It’s alright, just let us work. Go to sleep,” she whispered soft reassurances.

Emily could feel guilty about giving Tom stronger dose of morphine later. Right now, they had to focus on Schofield and Tom’s worry would just disturb them. She waited until Tom’s eyes slid shut, brushing his hair out of his face before she turned to her other ward. She’s got job to do.

Tom slowly opened his eyes, but quickly closed them again. He doesn’t remember closing them in the first place. He also doesn’t remember it being this bright… he could swear it was getting dark outside. The door opened and light footsteps entered the room. Tom blinked the rest of the sleep away, focusing on Emily. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Tom’s voice was hoarse. The fog of confusion was starting to disappear, but not fast enough for Tom’s liking. He felt like he was forgetting something important. He looked to his right, taking in the empty beds. Right, they left yesterday. They must be back in England by now. Looking to his left, he saw Will, lying still on his bed with rag covering his forehead and the yesterday’s events came crashing like a wave.

“It’s alright. It’ll be alright,” Emily soothed him, noticing his distress. “What happened yesterday? What’s wrong with him? He was alright!” Tom needed answers.

Emily took a deep breath. “Schofield’s infection got worse, which resulted in his fever rising. We’re currently trying to bring it down.”

“But will he be alright?” Tom asked desperately.

Emily just sighed. “If we manage to break his fever. The doctor will come to see him again, then we’ll know.”

No, this couldn’t be happening. They’ve got so far! They’ve survived all this time on the front. They survived the bloody mission! Will couldn’t do this to him, especially now that Tom was out of the worst. He couldn’t leave him.

“Tom,” Emily placed her hand on his arm, “it’ll be alright. Nothing is sure yet. Come on, let’s get you some breakfast.” She smiled reassuringly, but Tom couldn’t help but worry. Once he ate everything, Emily moved to Schofield. She managed to wake him briefly, making him take few sips of water and a few bites of food, but he wasn’t aware of anything happening around him. His eyes barely open before they closed again.

“We have everything we need for the treatment. Nurse Green, I’ll leave the rest to you,” the doctor said once he examined Will and left. Emily took Schofield’s hand and let out relieved sigh. “What?” Tom asked curiously.

“It’s good.” At Tom’s confused stare, she quickly added: “His hand. As long as it’s not turning black it’s good. As good as it can be.”

The day passed in a blur. Emily would come every once in a while to wet the cloth with cold water and giving them food and medicine. Tom spent the whole day watching Will for any sign of discomfort, but the man barely stirred. Tom didn’t sleep well that night.

The next day the doctor called Emily outside after the examination. When she returned, she couldn’t look Tom in the eye. “Emily?” Nothing. “Emily?” Again, nothing. “Tell me what’s going on,” Tom pleaded. When she still didn’t respond, a dread pooled in his stomach. “Emily, you’re scaring me!”

“It’s not helping,” she said quietly. She finally found courage to face Tom, but when he noticed the sadness in her eyes, his heart clenched painfully. “The fever is not going down. Despite the treatment it’s still the same. If his fever won’t break soon, the doctor will have to amputate his hand. He doesn’t want to wait for too long, since it could be useless once the infection passes a certain point.”

“Is it black?”

“No, not yet.”

Tom felt like someone punched his wound. Will could die. He could leave Tom behind. Tom felt sick. Is this how Will felt when no one knew if Tom would live to see the next day? With his thoughts racing, he didn’t notice when Emily left the room or how much time has passed. He was faintly aware of some noise outside. Did they bring more injured? He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Whimpers snapped Tom out of his trance. Will was stirring in his feverish sleep, his eyes moving rapidly under his eyelids and fingers twitching. He was having a nightmare. The sight was breaking Tom’s heart. Nobody was there to help him. Everybody must be where the commotion is coming from.

Will’s cloth slipped off his forehead. The nightmare was getting worse. Tom’s soul filled with resolve. Doctor’s orders be damned, he was not about to let his man suffer! Pushing himself upright was slightly easier than he remembered. It was standing up that hurt like hell. Despite the distance between their beds was about two meters, it seemed like two miles. Tom moved at a pace of injured snail, painfully putting one leg in front of the other and after what felt like eternity, Tom was at Will’s side.

Red was all Will could see. It covered his hands and no matter how much he wiped them on every surface around, it simply wouldn’t go away. The fire got closer, the ashes and burning embers threatening to suffocate him. But he had to found Tom. He knew he was somewhere around, but he couldn’t see him. He couldn’t see at all. The ashes were choking him. He was burning.

But then he felt gentle hand on his cheek. The warmth was gentle, not like the scorching heat all around him. _“It’s alright. I’ve got you,”_ the voice echoed from somewhere. But it wasn’t alright, he still had to find Tom! But… maybe… The voice was familiar, reassuring. It made Will feel at peace. Maybe he could take it easy for a little bit, rest for a short while…

Tom watched as Will stopped fighting whatever feverish dream he had and relaxed into Tom’s touch. Tom let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Taking the fallen cloth, he gently wiped the sweat form Will’s forehead. “Come on, Will. You can fight this,” he said softly. Bending down hurt, but Tom didn’t let the pain stop him from placing gentle kiss on the other man’s forehead. He wiped the sweat from rest of Will’s face and moving his hair out of his face.

“What did I say about getting out of bed?” Emily’s voice filled with gentleness startled Tom. She was standing in the doorway, holding fresh bowl of cold water.

“I’m sorry, he was having a nightmare and was moving around quite a lot and no one was around-“ Emily’s raised hand effectively cut off Tom’s rambling that started to get panicky towards the end.

“No worries, I’m not mad. I won’t tell anyone,” she made her way next to Tom, placing the bowl down and taking the old one, then headed to the opened window. She looked out, scanning the area for any people, before she murmured quiet “heads up” and spilled the water. Tom didn’t hesitate and took the cloth, soaking it in the cold water, squeezing it and placing it over Will’s forehead again.

“Alright, let’s get you back to bed before someone else sees you or your wound gets worse,” Emily said. She helped to take the weight from Tom’s injured side. This time, the distance between the beds didn’t seem that long. Once Tom was lying down again, the pain started to get better. “Now stay still, I’ll be back with lunch in a moment.”

Just like the day before, the rest of the day passed in a blur. Will didn’t show any signs of another nightmare, Emily came and went, taking care of both of them. However, the short walk Tom took exhausted him along with the emotional strain, but Tom refused to fall asleep for a long time. It was already well into the night when he whispered: “Fight! I know you can do it,” and let the sleep swallow him at last, but still dreading what would the next day bring.

Tom woke up next morning to someone in their room. Blinking his eyes open, he noticed Emily standing over Will. Her back was facing Tom, so she didn’t know he was awake yet. Her hand was on Will’s forehead and she was kicking the floor lightly with the front of her shoe – a nervous habit she had since Tom could remember. She was also moving her other hand, but Tom couldn’t see what she did. “Emily?” he asked, getting her attention.

She turned to face him, grinning and eyes full of happiness and relief. She held the thermometer up for Tom to see. “It’s going down! His fever broke and he’s getting better!” Tom noticed something like tears in corners of Emily’s eyes, but he didn’t care, since he was blinking away his own. “We’ll see what the doctor has to say, but for now we just have to wait for him to wake up.”

Tom didn’t mind the waiting. He’s waited for days for Will to get better, so what is a few more hours or days more? The weight of time wasn’t threatening to suffocate him anymore. While Tom was being fed his dinner again despite his protests that he can do it on his own now, Will started to regain his consciousness. The bickering stopped when they noticed him rubbing his face with soft groan. “Will!”

Will pulled his hand away, examining the cloth that rested on his forehead before he looked over. He was met with two relieved gazes. “What happened?” he asked, confused.

“You’ve given us quite a scare. One moment you seem alright and the next thing we know, you radiate so much heat it could fry an egg. Luckily your fever broke and the infection got better.” Emily learned it’s the best not to beat around the bush but be gentle enough.

“Oh,” Will said, memories returning. “Sorry about that. Thanks for caring about me.” He just hoped he wasn’t being a burden

“You have nothing to apologize for. And a part of the credit goes to nurse Blake over here,” she said with cheeky grin, ignoring the embarrassed calls from Tom. “He had to work his magic, since you got better after he decided to get up and help.”

Will turned to face Tom, eyes narrowing slightly. “You got out of the bed? While the hole in your abdomen is still not healed?” There was accusation in his voice, but Tom was having none of it.

“Look, this isn’t about me right now. You almost cooked yourself alive and they would’ve cut off your hand if you didn’t get better soon. So, let’s just drop it.”

“Okay, both of you, take it easy,” Emily stepped in before an argument could happen. “We’ve all had some pretty rough few days, so let’s take a deep breath and leave the past behind.” She saw how they accepted her words, looking down in shame. “Now I’m going to find the doctor, tell him you’re awake, so you two lovebirds can have a few minutes in private and then have time to rest.”

Will’s expression turned funny at the nickname and Tom sputtered. “No, it’s not like that!” Emily just gave him knowing smirk. “Of course it isn’t,” she winked at him, placed her finger over her lips and left the room.

“So, that happened,” Will stated.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed.

Two days later, Joe stopped by again. He was ordered to bring the men staying in the hospital their belongings, since they were changing positions. Tom could now sit up, his back supported with pillows. They chatted for a few minutes, but Joe couldn’t stay for long.

“Joe, a word,” Emily stopped him in the hallway. Retelling him the events of the past days and leaving out some details since it wasn’t her story to tell, she told him how she’s worried what separating those two would do to Tom with Schofield acting as his anchor and how she was now barely able to keep them alone in that room. Joe, bless his soul, promised to take care of it. “Someone owes me a favor,” he said.

With Will’s fever gone and difficulty to move his hand, he was ordered to stay in the hospital for a while longer, but since he was getting restless with nothing to do, Emily pulled some strings of her own and let Will help her around. He helped with book system for patients, washed bloody stretches and took over taking care of Tom.

Tom was making quick recovery too, now able to walk with help of a cane. It was almost middle of the May when Emily brought the mail. One official looking letter for each boy and one for her. From Joe. She gave them privacy to read their letters.

The two boys looked between each other and then opened their letters. They were official letters, but there were words that stood out the most.

Unfit for service.

Honorably discharged.

Awarded.

In two days.

“Is this really what it says it is?” Tom asked, not believing his eyes.

“I think it does,” Will replied, equally stunned. Their gazes met and before they knew it, they ran to each other, tackling each other in a hug and cheered. “We’re going home!” The tears of happiness fell as they shared the best kiss ever, tasting of freedom. They stayed in each other’s arms, not letting go, still cheering.

Emily’s back was leaning on the wall just outside their room, listening to the cheering. Looking down on her own letter, she let her eyes roam over the four words. _Consider everything done. -Joe_ reaching into her pocked, Emily pulled out small metal circle. “We did it, Archie. We got them home,” she brushed her thumb over the letters, her expression happy, yet a bit sad. “This is what you would have wanted. Get everyone you care about to safety. To keep them safe.”

She put the tag back to her pocked, patting it twice. “Come on, we still got a lot of work to do,” with determined face, she made her way down the hallway. The next day some officers came, giving Tom and Will the medals and thanking them for their service. Emily managed to borrow a camera from someone, taking a picture of the two boys outside in their uniforms and medals and after persuasion from Tom, who had a little help from Will, Emily took a picture with them too.

“Look after yourself.”

“You too. Take it easy and follow doctor’s orders. Schofield will let me know if you don’t, right Schofield?”

They were saying their goodbyes as the lorry was about to take the boys to the docks and then home when another nurse came running to them, out of breath. “This arrived just now,” she said, handing Tom a letter. He took it, said his final goodbye and the lorry left. They had two days of traveling ahead of them.

“Mum will be happy,” Tom said with smile as he read the letter. Then he turned to Will. “So, what now? Do you… want to come with me?”

Will gave him a smile. “Well, since I was tasked by two people now to watch over you, I can’t exactly leave you, can I? Will teased.

Tom hid his face in his hands, groaning that he doesn’t need a babysitter. “But thank you, really. You’ll like it there. The orchard will not be as pretty as back in April, but the harvest season is just around the corner.”

Will appeared to be in thought. “But the doctor said to take it easy, so you won’t be able to do it.” Tom clenched his jaw, not liking to be reminded of this. He can’t let his mum do it herself and Joe would arrive in the middle of the season. A lot of cherries would go to waste. “So how about this,” Will continued. “After I’ll go visit my family, I’ll come back here and help you. How does that sound?”

“I love you, you know?” Tom said with lovestruck expression. Will just laughed. “Yes, I know.”

They slowly made their way to the Blake’s farm, taking breaks when Tom needed to catch his breath. Walking long distances was still difficult task. He greeted a few people along the way and a few minutes later, the house came in view. Once at the doorstep, Tom put his cane away. “Ready?” Will asked.

“Ready,” Tom replied.

And knocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end. Thank you everybody for reading, kudos, comments... I greatly enjoyed every moment of writing this story. Please, leave one last review on your way out - tell me your thoughts. See you next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks everybody for reading. Who decided to write instead of studying for two exams and writing an analysis? Yep, me. The next chapter will be hopefully posted after two weeks, once I'm done with school (maybe I'll add a small chapter between the main two if I'll have time). Anyway, thanks again for reading, feedback is always appreciated.


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